


Anew

by days4daisy



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Angelcest, Flashbacks, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Flood, Wing Whispers, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He smiles when Gabriel stutters back from him. "You plague," Gabriel grouses. "I've missed you."</p>
<p>"My better half," Michael jokes.</p>
<p>Gabriel's mouth tilts. Their second kiss is more certain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anew

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after Episode 2x01, and it's been sitting on my tablet for awhile. But I need more wing whispering in my life, so still posting *_* Takes place after the Season 1 Flood flashbacks.

The scars have not healed yet. They sting in the salt water, pain that the archangel bears with a stoic bite of his cheek. He splashes his face, wetting bruised skin. His wings drip behind him.

It is not enough. Michael is not sure if it will ever be.

A cloudless sky stretches overhead. The sun is warm on his back. 

He fans his wings, scattering droplets. A whispered call up into the blue. 

This is not the first time Michael tries. His summons have thus far gone unanswered. But today will be different. He knows, he feels.

Boots plant in the sand. His brother stands on the beach, wings stretched wide. Their shadow spans across golden grains.

Michael emerges from the water naked, dripping salt to the scorched earth. The sea baptized him, but he does not feel clean.

Gabriel scowls at the sight of him. "A sword must be cleaned after use, I suppose."

He says this to be cruel, poor twin. But Gabriel's heart is too large to enjoy his own cruelty. The sting of betrayal wavers in his eyes.

"Will you cut my hair, brother?" Michael asks.

Gabriel frowns. "You do not need my assistance for this-"

"I do, Gabriel." Michael steps in front of him. "I must create myself anew. But I cannot do it alone."

Gabriel scoffs. "Is it my duty to change you?"

Michael lowers his head. His eyes sit heavy on the tips of his brother's boots. "You illuminated me," he says. "As did Uriel. I have done penance, but I fear it is not enough." He exhales. "I only ask that you acknowledge me, brother."

Gabriel does not speak. This silence is a strange weight on Michael's chest. Gabriel's patience has no match, Father's calm one. But his wit is quick. A loss of words does not suit him.

Perhaps Michael was wrong to summon him. Perhaps it was too soon, too callous.

A shift draws Michael's attention. There is a short blade in Gabriel's hand.

Gabriel curses under his breath. He raises the dagger towards Michael's face and tugs a section of his hair outward. With a smooth slice, the hair falls free, littering the sand below.

Gabriel's expression is still as he steps around Michael. He draws out the next section of Michael's hair. Michael feels a slight pull and hears the click of strands cut. 

The routine is cold, measured. So unlike Gabriel.

Michael folds his wings to let Gabriel work. He tips his head when urged. Waves roll onto the shore in a lazy rhythm. White foam dances in the afternoon sun.

With each slice, bodies sink into the sands of Michael's memory. He will never forget them, an eternal plague on his conscience. But he will live with his shame. At least Gabriel has not left him.

He tilts his head when Gabriel holds the blade out to him. 

His brother's intentions become clear when he closes his eyes and inclines his head. "Gabriel," Michael protests.

"How many of these humans did you slaughter with the swords I forged for you?" Gabriel asks. His mouth draws back in a grimace. "Am I not also in need of rebirth?"

"Brother-"

"I left you to die." Gabriel's voice wavers, bitter. "My twin."

Michael smiles and turns the blade in his hand. He drags the handle down the slope of his brother's face. The gesture speaks the words he cannot. Gabriel's gaze softens with regret.

Michael plucks a section of his hair. The knife cuts smooth. 

Gabriel's hair covers his in the sand. It is strange and beautiful, the dark strands of his own hair mingling with his brother's.

As Michael works, his wings fan out. They wave, a soft thrum, words whispered for his brother only. _I've missed you,_ they breathe.

Gabriel's laugh breaks. "Don't, Michael," he says.

Michael's wings pulse in return. _My heart._ They utter the praises his lips are too cold to speak.

Until now, Michael has not shared his brother's light. He is the stoic, the distant. He stands to the side as Gabriel makes merry and Uriel dances beneath the stars. 

Michael has not echoed their love for this world. Its inhabitants are a faithless race, quick to feed their own lust for power. Michael saw glory in Father's commands, wiping out the lot for their idolatry and sin.

Michael thought he was doing right. But he sees his error now. His blood thirst, his frenzy. His inability to speak to the one who always hears him.

Michael pauses to kiss Gabriel's neck, above the leather collar he wears. It is a beautiful neck, smooth with a gentle curve. His skin tastes of salt.

Michael lingers here, naked chest to his brother's wings. They shiver against his skin, a decadent flutter. Michael smiles, and his own wings shift. He whispers poetry to his brother's essence. He is so ashamed, they say. How selfish to sever the bond between them. How short-sighted, how petulant.

"Stop, Michael," Gabriel hisses. He sounds so small, his beautiful twin.

Michael cuts the final piece of his hair and scatters the strands to the desert floor. He tosses Gabriel's dagger, joining clothes and overused swords on the beach.

It is difficult to curl fingers in Gabriel's hair now. But this length suits his brother, Michael decides. His shorter hair is a regal touch, a compliment to the strong features of his vessel.

Michael tightens his hand, Gabriel's hair laced inside his fist. "My swords are here," Michael murmurs. "You have every right to them."

"They were a gift," Gabriel protests.

"They are an abused privilege," Michael argues. He steps from his brother's back. This admission, he knows, must be made eye-to-eye..

Gabriel raises a hand Michael's face. His fingers are bound by leather straps, soft on Michael's cheek. 

Gabriel's mouth is a softer pressure. Almost timid, this kiss, forgiveness offered with a thumb across his cheekbone.

Michael's naked body presses to Gabriel's armor. He is not ashamed, Gabriel knows him more intimately than he knows himself. Michael's fingers comb his brother's breast plate.  

He smiles when Gabriel stutters back from him. "You plague," Gabriel grouses. "I've missed you."

"My better half," Michael jokes.

Gabriel's mouth tilts. Their second kiss is more certain. 

Michael loosens Gabriel's clothes. He removes all, save the collar around his neck. Four slim straps of leather tightened around his throat. Michael's fingers hook beneath it. Then, his teeth, biting between the strips, yanking them with hungry impatience.

Gabriel chuckles skyward. His own wings twitch their pleasure. _Father was most generous when he gave me you, twin._ He sighs. _My tempest in a bottle._

Michael has missed his brother's wings. The stream so seamless between them. He buries his face tighter to Gabriel's neck. It is too much, this forgiveness. His hands dip into raven feathers, stroking down to the place where wings meet human skin.

Gabriel's wings shudder, and with them, the words. Michael hears the stutter of his brother's true voice, a shiver of pleasure ghosting to his mind. Michael smiles against Gabriel's neck.

He caresses the open sores of Gabriel's shoulder blades, the breach of skin where wings sprout. A sound tears from Gabriel. His wings rustle, a shaking exhale. _My yin._

Michael's smile grows. He circles to Gabriel's back. His brother watches, slanted gaze over his shoulder. His shorn hair slopes over his forehead. A perfect length.

Michael kisses his brother's temple, breaths a ghosted presence at his ear. His hands lay across Gabriel's shoulders. Slow, kneading pressure.

Gabriel's eyes close. This trust, after all Michael has done...

Michael's hands slide again into the expanse of his brother's wings. They are always majestic, but there is a certain beauty to them in this physical form. A powerful contrast to the delicacy of human skin. Michael stretches his arms, fingers brushing through feathers. 

His own wings stretch, edges teased against the boned tips of his brother's. Michael blows out a breath. 

Gabriel shivers. His teeth are grit, but Michael still hears his need. A sound clenched low in his throat.

Perhaps Michael should play nicer. His mouth twitches moments before his teeth cut around Gabriel's collar. Skin bruises under the flat of his mortal teeth. 

Gabriel curses amusement. But even this breaks, lost in the fingers raking roughly across his wings. The stinging caress sends new tremors through his limbs. He chokes on a breath. Michael hears his struggle, a groan trickling from his open mouth. The sound warms Michael inside, even as it darkens his eyes.

His wings sway their answering pleasure, stroked edges along his brother's. A rub of bone that makes Michael shudder and Gabriel hiss. His own pleasure is wondrous, but it is Gabriel's he wants. He hears the shiver of his brother's wings. His name, an unsteady whisper. The sound is a caress unparalleled by the stroke of human hands.

Michael breathes hot against Gabriel's neck. "I've missed you too," he says.

"You've missed this," Gabriel accuses.

It's true. Michael has missed the feel of his brother's skin. The richness of Gabriel's pleasure. His brother feels so much! These feelings are their own addiction. Through them, Michael experiences anew.

Michael's wings move in quiet reply. _Trust me, brother,_ they say.

Gabriel smirks. "Always." A beautiful word. 

Michael bows his head. His mouth moves between his brother's shoulders, to the place where skin becomes feather. The barely visible breach of his back.

Gabriel gasps and arches. "Michael," is all he says. It's all he needs to say.

His gasp becomes a moan when Michael's teeth replace his tongue. He sucks hard over the blemish left by his bite. His fingers run through feather, scraping thumb nails over boning. Gabriel hisses, and his wings tremble. His body moves, unsteady, bracing himself with a step forward. Michael knows his brother's tense expression without seeing, his shut eyes, his curled lips.

Michael moves one hand from wings to waist. Fingers stroll their way down the dip in bone. His skin is warm in the sun but dotted by goosebumps, strange script under his hands. Gabriel's wings flap, a sudden jerk of motion. _Brother,_ Michael hears, the gasp echoing through his being.

His own pulse races, locked on this one word. His lazy caress becomes the bruising cut of his fingers, marks left on his brother's body. Teeth caught on the open wound, a worry of skin. His forehead presses feverish to Gabriel's back. He tilts his eyes, watches Gabriel's head tilt back. The strain of his neck against the leather collar. A breeze in the jolt of his brother's wings. 

_Brother._ Repeated, this word. A chant, a plea. Gabriel's voice fills Michael's being. His heart jumps, his breath catches. And then relief. Sweet, paralyzing relief.

Gabriel's waist juts towards his hand, and his wings tremble, weary. The sand sweeps around them, and the sun beats down.

"You are mine, Gabriel," Michael murmurs.

His brother chuckles, lazy amusement. "Yes," he says. "And you are mine. My blessing and my curse, little brother."

*The End*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [Tumblr](http://daisy4days.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
